I-… I can’t breath. I can’t… It’s going to— I’m going to die in here. It’s not the same… something has changed. The air, the— walls. Something isn’t the same. My eyes hurt and my body is so sore. Staying in the same position for… I don’t know how long. I just feel terrible. Horrible, something isn’t the same.
Maybe it’s the loss of my security blanket, or the loss of faith. Maybe it’s the loss of hope. Something isn’t the same and I don’t know how I’ll be able to endure this if it gets worse. I feel so disconnected and alone… it was alright, but now it’s frightening. Nothing is the same and I-… I can hardly breath. I’m suffocating.
Back again, old friend. I think I’ve even gotten the same room. Let’s get to the poetic justice bit?
I lie awake in the darkness of nothing,
I find myself caught in an endless web… of nothing,
The futility of efforts, the strain of fight, the desire to make things right—
I find solace in these four walls of blackened life. I find everything I think should be right because in the blackness there is an empty canvas—a world of rights where the wrongs have been executed and have long gone, and now… now, I find myself still caught in the nothing.
The i n j u s t i c e of a battle that was waged with uneven sound,
the desire for equality in the place that you call sacred ground—
Nothing. My life amounts to nothing. I was broken before, but now I am beyond disrepair. I am the air around landfills. The acrid odor of death and the visage of disappointment. Return me, I say, return me before everything breaks. Return me before I stay and become anymore. Return me before I become so enraptured in your heart, captured in a moment—snapped and thrown into the dark.
Doom. Damned from the beginning, happiness never compliant. Doom. Found floating towards me in my silence. Doom.
Yet nothing. Our love is nothing. Our past is nothing—
Our future, is doom.
I’m not actually drunk at all right now, surprise surprise. And…just shut up, before I actually do give you to a guard. They’ll be here in a minute to take you to isolation, and they won’t touch you unless I change my mind.
Be my guest, change your mind. The conditions I’m put into don’t really seem to matter seeing as your the number one threat in my life at this point.
Have fun while I’m away. I hope you browse the slave catalogs for my replacement. I don’t think we’ll ever be at a place where we can be agreeable again. How unfortunate, but not really. I expected this. Thank God for foresight.
That’s fine? You don’t really have to like my voice. I don’t care. Island reject? That’s new. Okay, you have proven to have a really mature way of handling problems. I hope Rose eventually figures out what a selfish brat you are and does away with you before you destroy her.
If you want to show off your intelligence, try not acting like a moron every day, or publicly getting drunk so your mistress has to punish you. Intelligence is not trying to use big words in an attempt to confuse the person arguing with you because you don’t actually have a good defense. Also so you know, a soliloquy is a monologue given when the actor is speaking their own thoughts out loud, alone. Not in conversation with another individual. So if you are going to use the SAT words, at least do it right.
The definition of soliloquy, verbatim: “…is a device often used in drama when a character speaks to himself or herself, relating thoughts and feelings, thereby also sharing them with the audience." You are my audience, dumb ass. Don’t attempt to correct my grammar. I only use words I have a distinct understanding of, thank you—unlike you, who seems bent on trying to poke holes in adamantium.
Remark on my inclination to drink all you’d like, you’re not moving any boulders, honey. You’re just giving me further ammunition to use against you. Your repetitive, almost needy cries for my attention are becoming tiresome, really. Have you no one else to be a nuisance to? Mind you, I’m enjoying our banter, despite it’s circulatory fashion, I am merely inquiring.
I don’t know, I was going to pass it off to a guard and let him choose. I’m tired of dealing with you tonight.
Sounds even better. Then I don’t have to see your drunken face. I can handle the big hairy beasts you call “guard.” I’m certain they’d love to play “nervous” with me seeing as my mistress doesn’t care for my well-being.
Bring on the guards!
Well you do now, so congratulations. Really? You must be reading a different one from me because as I’ve said, I’ve been punished once. My rentals have all gone fine with no serious infratctions, and my time at the events and show have all been fine too. So maybe you should be sober more often and you’d actually get the correct information from your feed. I don’t need friends in high places, I can handle myself just fine on my own. I don’t htink behavior has naything to do with it. Funny how this converation was about how seflish you are and you hurting Rose and yet that’s the part we keep breezing past. I hope your satisfied with yourself, Harmony.
Did you just throw a few standard SAT words in there to try and sound cool or…
Your voice is both nasally, breathy, and excruciatingly annoying. I can just imagine you with your stupid ass chest pressed out as you ride on your high mule. If I wanted to have a heart-to-heart it certainly wouldn’t be with the island reject. As I said, I’m not discussing the affairs of my suite with you; despite your consistent and unpleasant attempts at badgering. I am more than satisfied. I’ve actually never felt more at ease in my life, thank you for asking.
Nope. Intelligence has a way of shinning through the illiteracy. I have to dumb everything I’m saying down. You have this vapid countenance that you wear like a second skin, so I suppose you may get lose in the soliloquies I spin, therefore I try my best to keep my speech as colloquial as possible. I’m pretty sure those aren’t SAT words, but I may be wrong.
Great. We’ll schedule the trip for after the punishment I’m about to give you.
Need some fap fodder? My blood is your pleasure, mistress. What shall it be today?
Am I supposed to be scared or somehow insulted that you know that Chuck raped me? Because I’m not. And I don’t know what facts you’ve been reading, but I behave perfectly fine and have been punished exactly once in my entire time here. Unlike you who can’t seem to learn what the word behavior means and completely takes advantage of the kind and fair mistress that she has to the point where it’s become so ridiculously selfish that you’re literally hurting her. What I preach is well practiced. Apparently what you preach isn’t.
Well… I didn’t know that he did that. I wasn’t being facetious when I said he’d only mentioned it in passing, but thank you very much for the insight. I’ve been reading my feed, sweetheart. You’re mentioned quite a lot and not in the most highly regarded terms, either. I know particularly well what the term means, I simply prefer to take my own approach, the choice is mine after all? Seeing as my behavior is so bad, I’ve made quite a few friends amongst the masters and they don’t seem to complain much. How many friends do you have—oh that’s right, none. Perhaps behavior isn’t your strongest suit? Apparently it isn’t well-practiced, but I preach nothing. I merely suggest, and move on.
I’m not going to discuss the affairs of my suite with you, but your solicitous conjectures, assumptions and opinions are jovially welcomed.
Do you really want to go to isolation again? Because that can be arranged. I’m thinking maybe a week would do you some good.
Sounds like paradise. As long as I’m away from you, we’re great.